Minor Corruption (17 page)

“So, Marc,” Hincks said, “what do you make of
the indictment at first glance?”

Marc picked up the document. “I’m surprised,
and disappointed, in that third charge. You can see from the
allusion to the events and witness-statements that the Crown
intends to link the girl’s death and the rape, as cause and effect,
deed and consequence. We’ll know more when we see their
witness-list in a day or two.”

“Isn’t involuntary manslaughter a bit of a
stretch,” Hincks said, “even for our Attorney-General, who has
ambitions as big as his belly?”

“It is, and even if he were able to prove
that Uncle Seamus financed the abortion, which they can’t, he can’t
be convicted of manslaughter or even criminal negligence. After
all, no-one but Betsy knew who would be asked to perform that
butchery.”

“You think they’re doing this to besmirch my
uncle’s character so that the jury will find the circumstantial
evidence around the so-called rape more convincing?” Robert asked
Marc.

“I’m sure of it. The indictment begins there
and I believe the Crown’s case will start there as well. By the
time we get to the incident at the mill, Uncle Seamus will already
be painted as a blackguard, if not an outright murderer.”

“And when we get to the mill?” Dr. Baldwin
asked.

“It sounds like they’ve got witnesses at
Spadina and the mill to place Uncle Seamus in the ravine at the
trout-pool below the mill-building just before the alleged time of
the crime.”

“And he already admits to being there,”
Robert said. Then he proceeded to tell Marc and the others the
version of events that his uncle, haltingly, had recounted to him
the previous evening, a repetition of the testimony he had given to
Horatio Cobb, but which the police chose to ignore.

“The problem is, as you all know,” Marc said,
“Seamus cannot take the stand in his own defense. Our law won’t
allow it. Which presents us with a problem: how can I get
our
version of events on the record? The business of
checking out the pony for Betsy is plausible and credible, given
that we could get corroboration for her interest in horses from
Thurgood when he appears, as he must for the charge to stick, or
from her pals at Spadina. But apparently only Seamus and Betsy were
privy to that information, and Betsy’s dead and Seamus can’t
testify. Likewise with the phony reason Betsy gave Seamus for
needing the five pounds: to help her mother get an operation.
No-one else can vouch for the deception other than Seamus
himself.”

“That doesn’t leave us much of a defense,”
Sullivan said.

“But it does leave us with offence,” Marc
said forcefully. “A situation that my role model, Doubtful Dick
Dougherty, would have relished.”

Richard Dougherty, now dead, had been a
brilliant trial lawyer – fair but ruthless in cross-examination. In
his long career he had never lost a capital case. It was he who
prompted – inspired – Marc to go back to the law, not as a
solicitor like his adoptive uncle but as a full-fledged barrister,
a principal performer in the theatre of life and death.

“You may need all of his cunning,” Hincks
said.

“Where do you see the weak points?” Robert
asked. “The points of attack?”

Marc paused, then said, “The evidence placing
Uncle Seamus at the scene is there to bolster Jake Broom’s
eye-witness description of the crime – given in some detail here.
I’ll review the full statement later today. It’s also being used to
eliminate the other obvious suspects.”

“That is everyone working at the mill who
knew Betsy and Betsy’s habits, and who might have become smitten
with her?” Sullivan said.

“Yes,” Marc said. “If the actual rapist was
some stranger, and that is very unlikely, then we’ll never find out
who committed the outrage. Betsy didn’t report it, and two months
went by without a further murmur about it. She apparently said
nothing about it even on the night of the abortion when she’s said
to have named Uncle Seamus. Only the botched abortion itself and
the return of Jake Broom rekindled the affair. So it must have been
one of the mill-hands. If Joe Mullins saw Uncle Seamus in the
ravine unobserved, then he himself has no alibi and plenty of time
to get to the barn nearby. And Sol Clift seems to have been left
alone in the office soon after, giving him time to slip through the
mill and get to the barn.”

“True, Marc, but why would the Crown’s star
witness say he saw an older-looking body with a bush-sized head of
white hair?” Hincks said.

“Yes,” Robert said, “it makes no sense. If he
did see Clift or Mullins do the deed and decided to cover up for
one of his mates, why would he not just let the matter lie
dormant?”

“He was gone over two months,” Dr. Baldwin
pointed out.

“Perhaps he got a guilty conscience,”
Sullivan said.

“And if he did it himself, then why bother at
all?” Robert said again. “Even the inquest pointed only to Mrs.
Trigger. Thurgood kept quiet about the business of Uncle Seamus and
the five pounds.”

“You’ve all raised good points,” Marc said.
“The key to this business is what Broom
thought
he saw that
day. But if I can’t break him down on the stand and get him to
reveal what he
actually
saw and why, then we may be in
serious trouble.”

“I just thought of something,” Hincks said.
“If Seamus can’t be on the stand, then he won’t have to admit where
he was or why. You can go after this Joe Mullins and impeach his
testimony.”

“That’s right,” Dr. Baldwin said. “The Crown
will have to use only its own witnesses to suggest, not prove,
whether my brother’s motives were evil or philanthropic.”

Marc held up his hand. “We’re getting ahead
of ourselves. Remember, as Robert has told us, Uncle Seamus was
interviewed by Cobb. If the Crown puts Cobb on the stand to help
tie their story together and to provide context as to where in what
circumstances the love letter and thank-you note were found, I’ll
be able, if I’m astute enough, to get him to relate those
favourable details he elicited from his interview with Uncle Seamus
up at Spadina. The trick will be to use the Crown’s questioning
somehow as a basis to launch the subject. I could even call Cobb as
a witness for the defense.” But the spectre of vigorously
cross-questioning his good friend was not a happy one.

“If they’re wise,” Sullivan said, “they won’t
call him. That’ll make him a hostile witness if we do it.”

Robert shook his head slowly. “This just gets
worse and worse. We’ve got a near-revolt in Windsor – which I’ll
detail later – and Francis is going to have to write to Louis
LaFontaine in Montreal to apprise him of the upcoming trial before
he hears about it from the rumour mill.”

“Have we got any actual defense at all?” Dr.
Baldwin said.

Marc smiled at him. “You are it, sir.”

“Me?” Dr. Baldwin looked surprised, and a
little edgy. “Oh, as a character witness,” he said.

“Precisely. Without direct testimony from the
accused himself, we’ll need to throw doubt on the probability of
that big-haired villain being your sweet, gentle brother.”

“And we’ve got the servants,” Robert said
hopefully. “We need to get testimony from them about his kindness,
his generosity to them, and his unfailing courtesy.”

Marc sighed. “I’d like nothing better,
Robert. I’ve heard about his tutoring Edie Barr and Betsy Thurgood
and his giving them extra money for their families. That testimony,
especially by Edie, would be invaluable because Edie was almost the
same age as Betsy.”

“Then why can’t we use it?” Hincks asked. “Or
similar good references from Mrs. Morrisey or the other, older
housemaid?”

“Because the Crown will use them for its own
purposes,” Marc replied.

“I don’t see – ”

“They’ll elicit the other, impish side of his
personality. They’ll subject the poor servants to a barrage of
questions about the picnics and soirées up at Spadina. Details
about his teasing and flirting will have to come out. The
ventriloquist business will involve Betsy directly. They’ll make
him out to be a lecherous and silly old man – in his dotage and
dangerous to females.”

“I see,” Hincks said. “I’ve seen that impish
side myself. And we’re Irish, aren’t we? We understand and make
allowances for those traits, but others don’t – and won’t.”

“I’m afraid so,” Marc said.

“But won’t my father be subjected to the same
cruel cross-examination?” Robert said, glancing at his parent and
role model, who looked feverish and uncomfortable. He wouldn’t be
able to stay for the political discussion to follow: they couldn’t
afford to have him go down sick at this juncture.

“He will, but he’ll be better able to
withstand it than the servants. And as one of the pillars of this
community, you, sir, will be questioned with more circumspection
and, I trust, more respect. In addition, your words will carry more
weight.”

“And I can honestly say that I have never
seen the notorious ventriloquist act,” Dr. Baldwin smiled as best
he could. “But perhaps we won’t need a defense.”

“That’s what I’m hoping,” Marc said.” I
intend to go at every Crown witness without mercy. Seamus is
innocent, so there is a truth out there that I must get to, or in
the least point to. We may not be able to break up the neat little
narrative outlined here in the indictment, but we can put cracks in
it everywhere along route and suggest some enticing alternatives.
Then we’ll win it in the closing argument.”

“That’s the spirit,” Hincks said.

“Who will be arguing against you, Marc?”

It was Robert Sullivan who answered. “I’m
afraid it’s Neville Cambridge.”

Both Sullivan and Marc had come up against
Neville Cambridge in the previous spring’s assizes. He was a new
breed of barrister, educated in England where he apprenticed at the
Old Bailey, and newly immigrated to Toronto to take up a
partnership in his cousin’s law firm. He had proved to be such an
effective courtroom performer that the Crown co-opted him to try
important cases. His approach eschewed the flamboyant and
hyper-dramatic tactics of old-guard barristers like Doubtful Dick
Dougherty. Instead he relied on his gentleman’s suave demeanour and
sly gambits that were closer to sleight-of-hand than slick gesture.
He was also a High Tory and politically ambitious. A victory over
the Baldwin clan would be a feather in his pedigreed cap.

“Then we’ll just have to try all the harder,”
Marc said.

***

Reluctanty Robert set off on his trouble-shooting
mission to Windsor the next day. Francis Hincks wrote immediately
to Louis LaFontaine, explaining as best he could their view of the
heinous and false charges brought against Uncle Seamus and, by
extension, the Baldwins and the Reform party. He pointed out that
the party’s grassroots support was founded on notions of equality
of opportunity and fair play under the law. These people respected
the
earned
entitlements of the middle class who led them in
their political struggles: politicos like the Hincks and Baldwins
and, before them, Mackenzie and the Bidwells. If one of their ilk
were to abuse such privilege (abominably in the case of Seamus
Baldwin) and disadvantage one of their own kind, then that constant
support could be dramatically withdrawn. Three days later Hincks
received a courteous and thoughtful reply from LaFontaine, himself
a lawyer. He sympathized with the Baldwin’s position and promised
that he would keep a lid on speculation in Quebec among his
rouge
adherents. He was certain there would be no long-term
effects on their French-English alliance – if the gentleman were
found innocent. He left unsaid the awful consequences of
conviction.

Meanwhile Marc busied himself reading and
re-reading the indictment and the numerous attachments: Cobb’s
various interviews and summary, and the two incriminating notes. On
the Thursday before the trial, he rode up to Whittle’s mill and
surveyed the scene for himself. He wanted to retrace the witnesses’
movements, timing, and vantage-points. From the south side of the
mill, if you walked ten paces farther on, you could see down into
the ravine and the trout-pool where the stream began one of its
many loops. Unless a person
in
the ravine were specifically
looking for someone at that point, the latter would likely be
unobserved, as Joe Mullins claimed. Uncle Seamus had been seen but
had not realized it. From the ravine Marc followed the creek’s bank
north, noting that a screen of bushes and hawthorn trees kept his
movements hidden from anyone in or around the mill. This cover
lasted the hundred and twenty yards he paced off from the
trout-pool to the rear of the barn. Even today, with Seth Whittle
aware of his presence and purpose, the back doors were wide open.
Marc walked up towards them. A small grove of cedars to his right
would effectively screen his movement from the two men who claimed
to be working on the damaged weir above the mill itself. So, it was
possible for the Crown to claim that Uncle Seamus could have got
from the ravine to the barn without being seen. In less than five
minutes.

Marc went into the barn and stood just inside
the doorway, the spot from which Jake Broom stated he had witnessed
the rape. The stall was wide open to view, as it must have been on
that terrible day. The stall itself was part of a row of stalls
running north and south the length of the barn. But it was the only
one visible from the eastern entrance. Broom must have entered from
the door on the southwest corner, and then strode along to check on
the sick horse, around the corner and several stalls away from the
fateful one. Then he would have decided to exit through the back
doors to go for a walk or a smoke, would have walked by the open
stall without seeing or hearing anything (why there was no sound
was another matter to be considered), would have reached the
doorway, heard some small noise, and turned to discover the outrage
being perpetrated before his eyes. Instead of rescuing the girl, he
panics and runs to the mill-office. But it’s about one o’clock and
everyone has gone back to work. So he races back, only to find the
stall empty. Marc spent another minute studying the peculiar play
of light and shadow in the stall, and thinking hard. Then he left
the barn.